You, are air
by TheMarauder1967
Summary: James Potter on Lily Evans, the love of his life, and the toe to his rag.


_I_

 _Will reach_

 _For you_

 _But_

 _I_

 _Will never_

 _Grasp_

 _At your affection_

 _Like I_

 _Am drowning and_

 _You_

 _The air_

There's a blue sky and green grass and trees that sway in the wind. There's a castle that serves as a school, with battlements and turrets and towers. There are students on the grass, a girl with ginger hair, a girl with black hair and two with blonde.

The one with the ginger hair, you, is making a daisy chain. I watch you because there's nothing else for me to do (there is, there always is, but you make it seem like there's not). You're so focused, so gentle and so skilled. Mary laughs beside you at something someone else has said, and you look up, a smile on your face and you laugh.

Your laugh is loud but not loud enough for me to hear it from where I'm sat. Remus says something and I mutter a reply without looking away from you. It's like you're a train wreck and I'm a spectator. You're so painful to watch but I can't look away.

We're sixteen years old. We're sixteen years old and my heart beats too fast when I look at you, and my hair flops in front of my face and you still ignore me. We're sixteen years old and I wonder if you know it's not a joke anymore. It hasn't been for a while.

We're sixteen years old and that doesn't stop me thinking about children with my hair and your eyes like I shouldn't be.

We go home for the summer and I don't see you on the platform, but I hear you. You're calling messages of love to your friends and I see them hugging, but you're already gone. Mary smiles at me and tells me to have a good summer and I wonder if, had you been there, would you have hugged me like you hugged them?

Would I have smelt your hair and would you put your arms round my neck or my waist and would you have had to stand on your toes to hug me? Would you have hugged me?

Sirius comes home with me and I don't see you for six weeks, but I think about you. I wonder if you're enjoying your summer, if you manage to tan (if you can tan at all) in the one week of sunshine we get, and whether your dad is feeling better (I heard you tell Remus he was ill).

I see the boys, though. Remus and Peter come over and we play two aside quidditch and me and Peter lose horribly to Sirius and Remus. Remus is an excellent player, but refuses to try out for the team in case he doesn't make it. The point is, you're there and I think about you but you don't consume me until there's nothing left because I haven't had the chance to _know_ yet.

He gets a prefect badge over the summer, and when we bump into you in Diagon Alley, you have one too. Sirius forces you to come shopping with us, mainly so he can flirt with Marlene. You let me buy you an ice cream because I tell you it's as a congratulations for your badge so I have to buy Remus one as well. He nudges me under the table, winking away as though he has a twitch and I want to hate him but I can't.

You get ice cream on your chin and you let me brush it off with my thumb.

Sirius wolf whistles and I _do_ hate him.

You laugh, eyes crinkled and it's loud but still soft. It's private and I love it.

Peter beats Mary at cards- he beats everyone at cards- and she demands a rematch. Between her and Remus, they manage to beat him. We spend four hours wandering round London without buying anything we need to buy.

I don't care, and it seems like you don't either.

I invite you all back for dinner- Sirius tells you (Marlene) that you (Marlene) should all come- and you reluctantly agree. You hold the back of my shirt so you don't get lost, gripping Remus' hand so we're all stuck together. I tell you I'm jealous with a wink and you drop his hand and my shirt.

Remus rolls his eyes, and you change your mind.

You say that you should be getting back, it's late and I nod even though I'm kicking myself. You hug Remus goodbye, and ruffle Sirius' hair, dodging out the way when he tries to do the same to you, tell Peter you'll see him soon, and you're gone.

I next see you on a platform. It's busy and for some reason, it feels like there are more students on the train this year. To stop our compartment from being taken over by first years, Sirius asks Marlene to come and sit with us. She brings Mary and Dorcas, and, after your meeting, Remus brings you.

You're in a dress. It's a pale green and stops just above your knee. Mary makes you sit in front of her, and she does your hair while you bicker with Dorcas about the best way to eat jaffa cakes.

You bicker with everyone about everything. All the tiny little things that don't matter to anyone else but you make out are the most important thing in the world. And when its important things you stay quiet. You pick the battles you know you can win and I admire that about you (I admire a lot about you).

I play cards with Sirius, and he wins because I keep looking over at you and the way you lean back against the chair, knees folded up in front of you, and your arm brushing against Peter's leg.

I don't understand what Mary's done to your hair but it's off of your neck, twisted up into something fancy that looks like you should be getting married and not going to school. You're wearing makeup, and you look pretty and I wish I could tell you but I can't.

(I want to make a note of every time I've wanted to tell you you're pretty so if I ever get the chance to tell you I can)

We get to school, and you and Remus become best friends in an instant. You're spending free time together, laughing at inside jokes and stealing his bacon at breakfast. Mary leans over you to talk to Sirius about a prank we pulled in fourth year, and it's like I blinked and my friendship group has become yours.

We mingle and you let me carry your bag from potions to DADA every Thursday before lunch. You tell me about your day and I tell you about the stupid things Sirius does. Our arms bump into each other and I wonder if it affects you at all like it affects me.

Dorcas tells me about you getting your skirt caught at the top of a ferris wheel once at a summer fair and the whole ride having to be closed down so they could save you.

Mary tries to teach me how to plait hair one evening, a long French one down the back of someone's head. She uses you and I use Sirius, until I demand a swap because Sirius keeps fidgeting.

Your hair is soft and I did a crap job of the plait but that's because it smells like a weird mix of tropical fruits. You tell me it's not the worst one you've ever had, and you don't take it out. You sleep in it, and the next day your hair isn't as curly as normal. It's gentle waves down your back and I see it and think _I did that._

Sirius keeps his in as well, says it keeps the hair out of his face for Quidditch and it looks _stupid¸_ but before every match he makes Mary plait his hair while you sit in the corner, legs thrown over Remus' losing at cards to Marlene and Peter.

I tell you I'm not gonna ask you out anymore, and you say _thank you,_ and your eyes don't break and you keep smiling and there's a feeling inside my chest and it feels like I'm drowning.

You start to trust me now. You tell me things that you didn't before and I realise that all you saw me as before was someone trying to get into your pants, and I hate myself a little bit for it. You ask me for advice on guys and I ask you for advice on girls (you're the only girl I want advice for).

You tell me that you think flowers are overrated, that your ideal first date is something _fun_ and that you would rather go somewhere _really_ cold than somewhere _really_ hot (you said the animals were more interesting down there).

Dorcas gets you a kitten for your birthday, an ugly, grumpy ginger thing, and you fall in love. You make us promise not to tell McGonagall because there's an owl in the Owlry that also belongs to you. I watch you playing with it the common room and think that you're going to be a good mother one day before I can stop myself.

We're seventeen and it's raining. We're walking fast inside, my jacket pulled tight over my head to shelter us and I wonder when you stopped hating me. There's a figure with dark black hair ahead of us and for a moment I think it's Sirius, but then he turns round and I wipe the rain off of my glasses and it's Snape.

You're cold and distant and when he tells you that you could be doing better than being my _whore_ you look him dead in the eye and ask _what? Like being your friend?_

 _You're not my whore_ I tell you quietly, and you nod _and I'm not his friend._

You tell him that you're a mudblood and that's never going to change and I hate the words coming out of your mouth but I'm proud of you for saying them and that's a weird feeling. We walk away, and you lift your middle finger up at him and call him Snivellus. I kiss your hair and Sirius laughs so hard he falls off of his chair when you tell him later.

Remus looks at me with a knowing look in his eye and I want to hate him _still_ but I can't.

There's a niggling in my mind, though, that the school thinks that I'm just _using_ you and I sit next to Sirius at breakfast and ask him questions about quidditch and you throw me a look that I can't read but don't say anything. You sit next to Mary and she immediately starts a conversation about the news of another muggle attack.

(Remus tells me I'm being stupid, and I sit next to you at lunch, dinner and every other time I possible can)

You ask if Remus is a werewolf and he avoids you for three days. You burst into our dorm room and tell him to pull himself together because he's being a whiny little git and you're going to be late for the meeting.

I look up from the map and Sirius looks at you like he wants to marry you. Peter blinks in astonishment and I realise why I love you so much and then nearly have a nervous breakdown. There's swearing and cursing and it's so unfortunate that the one girl I actually love doesn't love me back.

The next Hogsmeade trip, you say _lets all go together,_ and we do. You walk with your arm slung through Sirius' and I don't know who to be jealous off because that's _my best mate,_ and _I love her,_ but then I see you push him into a bush and him trip you up and smile.

Remus claps me on the back and tells me I've got it bad. I don't bother telling him that I already know. Mary and Peter duck into Honeydukes to buy a bag of chocolate raisins that could last anyone a year and they go and sit by the shrieking shack, trying to throw them into each other's mouths.

You get one into Marlene's first try and you throw your arms above your head laughing like a three year old who knows it's nearly Christmas. You lie back in the grass and it's been a year since I was sat by the lake staring at you and wishing I could be your friend and now you're here, throwing strands of grass into Peter's hair with Remus.

You have ginger hair and a laugh that makes me smile. You love Sirius' leather jacket so much that you wear it more than he does (he's buying you one for Christmas). You don't like strawberries, but you eat them because you like the way they make your tongue go pinker. You smile and ask the fat lady how she is every time you see her. You know the name of every Gryffindor first year – even the weird ones- and you're a _dork_ and you're even more attractive than when you were just a girl with ginger hair.

I pass my apparation test a week later and I tell you before I tell Sirius.

You and Sirius stay up one Friday night, passing a bottle of firewhisky between you, a letter folded neatly behind your head and a scar on Sirius' hand. You're on the floor, legs sprawled out in front of you and giving Sirius a list of reasons why nobody needs their family, slurring every time you say the words _petunia's a bitch._

Your father has cancer, and Petunia thinks you can 'fix' him. She blames you and I've never been so angry. You wave the bottle in the air and Sirius tells you about his parents so I decide not to come any further down the stairs. You two have got each other.

You fall asleep on the floor, and Sirius can't get into the girl's dormitories so he carries you up to ours and lays you on his bed, before sliding onto the floor.

You wake up with a headache and four teenage boys waiting nervously to see how you're going to react to being in our dormitory. Instead, you stretch, ask to borrow a tshirt (I give you one, slightly bemused) and fall back asleep.

 _She's not as feisty when she's asleep,_ Peter comments dryly. Remus tells him that you're only feisty when you don't like someone and Peter doesn't say anything else.

We go home for the summer and you hug me goodbye at the platform, arms tight round my neck and mine resting on your waist. You introduce me to your mother and father (he stands frail, but you just look relieved to see him standing at all) and Sirius greets them like he already knows them. Remus shakes their hands and pulls your mother into a hug and it's just me and Pete who seem to be unaware who they are.

You promise to write and I receive a letter from you the next day addressed _dear Toerag_ and laugh so hard I wake my owl up. Your owl pecks at my hand until I feed it, and then it flies off without waiting for a reply.

I write to you back and within the week, you've invited me and Sirius round. We arrive (Sirius carrying flowers because he wants your mum to like him more than me) and you open the door with a wide grin. Marlene stands behind you, streaks of blue in her hair and a yellow top that clashes with them.

We go down the local pub (you invited Remus and Peter as well, and the girls are meeting us there) and you hustle us all at pool. You bend over the table and Sirius shoots me a look that I want to hit him for because surely you _must_ know what you do to everyone (me, what you do to me).

There's a hole in my chest and you flung yourself into it. I wanted to hate you, Evans.

I've had my fourth drink and you your third when the barman calls you over. He holds out an object (it's a telephone, Remus whispers from beside me, a proud lilt to his voice), and you stop smiling.

I watch your heart break for the third, fourth, time and I can't stop it.

You nod into the telephone, say something, and then put it down. You thank the barman and then you walk, head held high, outside. I watch you go and Mary kicks me, _go._

I go. I get there seconds before you apparate. You're holding your wand and it's a dark alley but it's not that dark and there are muggles smoking literally three meters away from you. You're so, so careful and you're not.

I spin you round and there's tear tracks down your cheeks and I pull you to my chest and you grip my shirt and it's like the floodgates open and I've never felt so helpless. You fold yourself into me and your presence is so huge and right now it's smaller than an ant. You're gone and this isn't the Lily Evans I know. This might be the Lily Evans that Sirius Black knows, with your late night talks and the getting-drunk-over-shit-families situation but _I_ have never had to comfort you before.

 _Red?_ I ask.

 _It's fine,_ you say, _that's okay._

I learn eventually. Your Dad has been rushed to hospital, something has ruptured inside of him because of the cancer cell and it's destroying him. I smooth your hair back and when you take my hand, yours is shaking.

Your eyes are red and you have mascara streaked down your chin.

Your dad dies and you cry on my shoulder until you're too tired to do anything else so you fall asleep. You're the strong Lily Evans, but right now, you're weak. You're collapsed in on yourself, a burnt out star and you're not untouchable. You're breakable and delicate and one of those china dolls that my Grandma used to collect.

Your mum tells me to take you away from the hospital so you don't have to deal with your sister, and I didn't realise it was that bad. You're asleep on my shoulder and oblivious to the world, so I take you back to mine. I put you in my bed and it's not the first time I've seen you sleep but its the first time you've grabbed my hand and whispered _stay._

(Sirius stands at the doorway and he's just as worried as I am. I realise that you've somehow managed to work your way into everyone's hearts without doing anything but being yourself)

You pull yourself to my chest and I can't sleep because this is what I've always _always_ wanted. So I sit with my back on the headrest and your head on my chest. I watch your head move up and down with my breaths and stroke your hair (it's still soft).

You go home the next day, a blush on your cheeks and an apology on your lips.

Before you go, you invite me to a wedding no one even knew was happening (Sirius did, but he keeps secrets when you ask him to). Your sister is getting married and you want a _date_ you say. There's a wry smile on your lips (your eyes are still watery and the smile isn't real) and you tell me that I'm better looking than Vernon and you have to upstage Petunia.

Sirius opens his arms and you collapse into them. He whispers in your hair and you let out a weak chuckle.

You meet my parents like that, tear tracks down your cheeks and heartbreak in your eyes. My mum gives you a hug and my Dad looks at you with pity in his eyes. When you're gone they say _is that her?_ and Sirius says _yes._

You leave and I worry about going to a wedding with you when you asked me because I was here before Sirius was (he didn't tell me you invited him as well, the utter bastard). I get a letter from Hogwarts, one from Mary, one from Peter and two from Remus and I don't get one from you.

I'm Head Boy (Sirius laughs for a solid hour) and my parents have never been so proud.

Sirius writes a long letter to you explaining that I got it, and congratulating you for getting it even though he doesn't know you've got it. He's playing a risky game. We play quidditch and muck around and its two days before the wedding and I _still_ don't know what's happening.

I show up at your door at eight o'clock the morning of the wedding. You open it, eyes sleepy and still wearing pyjamas (it's my shirt you're wearing). Your hair is in a messy bun and there's mascara smudged under your eyes.

You tell me it's too early and I shrug and tell you that's what you get for not giving me any details. We're both painfully aware that we haven't seen each other since your dad died, but if you don't mention it, I'm not going to.

You get ready and we go for a walk, because you _just need to get away from Petunia._ So we go to a park and it's ten o'clock in the morning and you're wearing a pale blue dress that just grazes your knee and I'm wearing a suit (you bewitch the tie so it matches your dress and we _match,_ Evans) and you're too good for me.

You sit on a swing set with flowers in your hair and delicate curls floating down your back and you laugh too hard when you get mud on the hem of your dress. Your shoes are glittery and silver, and they make you as tall as me. I push you on the swing and we must look like right tossers.

You've been kicked out of the bridal party, you tell me quietly when we're walking back.

 _I'm a freak, Potter,_ you tell me, arms wide out to the side and your head tilted back as you _fly_ round in circles. _Maybe,_ I want to say so so badly, _but you're my freak._

We go to the wedding and Sirius whirls Marlene round on the dance floor and you introduce me to Vernon as your _date_ and I am better looking than him (but let's face it, so is Snape). Remus slyly throws bits of paper into his hair from the 'freak' table and Peter annoys Vernon so much his face turns purple. Mary laughs not so subtly into her glass and Dorcas leans against Remus' side.

I didn't realise you invited _everyone._

(You hold my hand beneath the table and you lean against me and when it gets colder you let me wrap my jacket over your shoulders and your Grandma comes up and tells you that we make a good couple and you don't correct her.)

There's a band in the corner and they play tacky jazz music and you whisper to me that when you get married the one, sole aim is to be to upstage Petunia's wedding. You'll force _The Beatles_ to get back together if you have to, and I laugh and ask you who's going to pay for it all. You look at me like it's obvious and my heart skips a beat and it's the alcohol that makes me think its me but it's also you.

It's you and the way you introduce me as your _date_ and the way you grip my hand tighter when Petunia walks down the aisle with your mum and how you lean against my side when someone mentions your dad in one of the speeches.

Remus watches you with an eyebrow raised and you make eye contact with him and nod and you think I don't notice but I notice _everything_ you do, Evans.

(You don't like pumpkin juice because one time, Mary accidentally tipped some over you in the morning and you had to wear it for the whole day. You like the song _Yesterday_ because whenever it comes on you turn it up like you don't even realise you're doing it. You put syrup on your cereal but only when you have cornflakes. I _know_ you)

We dance and you take the piss, and make me slow dance when everyone's jumping around. You dance with Sirius and Remus and Peter and your dress floats out when you twirl round and it may be Petunia's day but I've only got eyes for you.

We eat too much food and Peter gets drunk on the champagne.

We leave early and you stumble so much on your heels that I force you onto my back and it somehow manages to turn into eight drunken teenagers jousting at one o'clock in the morning in the middle of the street.

You kiss my cheek when we say goodbye and whisper _thank you_ in my ear.

Sirius leans over to Remus and asks him if we're aware that we're dating and he thinks I don't hear him, but he can't whisper when he's drunk. (Remus tells him that no, we're not aware and I think the problem is that I'm aware but you're _not._ )

We go back to school and you _are_ the new head girl. You sit beside me in meetings and we go on patrols together and you bump my shoulder with yours when we run into Snape and wink at me when we catch fourth years trying to sneakily get it on in a broom closet.

We play cards into the early hours of the morning.

Dorcas' brother is killed by Death Eaters in France, trying to get foreign wizards to recognise the brewing problem in the UK. Marlene's parents are killed in Scotland and she leans more heavily at Sirius when they sit down together now. You spend more time awake at night, holding your friends when they cry into the night. Mary sits beside you, the only other muggle born, and she holds your hand and you deal with your friend's pain together.

My parents die on a Friday in October. It's cold and Sirius is the person I turn to. Remus and I are playing cards and you're sitting by the window with Sirius and Marlene, talking about tricks to teach your cat.

The owl comes in and I open a letter from the ministry explaining the news. It's formal, brief and almost unapologetic. _Sorry for your loss._ It doesn't mean jack _shit_ when there's no one left. Remus sees my face fall and he reaches across for the letter but I don't let him have it. Instead, I stumble over to you, and force it into Sirius' hands.

He's laughing when he reads it and I watch the smile die off of his face just like Remus watched the smile die off of mine. You scan both our faces and I don't want you to see me break but you do anyway.

You see me crack and break and pieces of me flake off and you watch, and do nothing but reach out and hold my hand. I grip it tight like it's a lifeline.

All I'm aware of is your hand in mine and Sirius' arms round my back and mine round his. He cries on my shoulder and I cry on his and I'm not ashamed.

There were hugs and _love yous_ and games of quidditch and fights and _mum there's a girl at school_ and _dad I don't understand this_ and introducing them to my friends and meeting their's and playing cards and being taught how to play chess and _Jamie, if you do this, he always loses_ and being whacked on the hand when he tries to steal a cookie and flour in his hair and Sirius joining them. There's four places set round the table and there's a motorbike in the garage and Sirius falls in love with it and they fix it up together, him and Dad. There's a bigger wash and there's my mum hugging Sirius and me, calling us her _sons_ and laughing when Sirius blushes. There's Dad pushing me into the lake and then jumping in after me, pulling Sirius with him. There's a family and there's four place settings where now there'll only be two.

We're seventeen years old and we're being turned into soldiers to fight a battle that doesn't belong to any of us. We want revenge and we want to walk without looking over our shoulders. We're crying in the common room and no one even looks up because it's _normal._

It's in the newspapers the next day. _Fleamont and Euphomia Potter were attacked late last night in their family home in Devon. Fleamont died at the scene, and Euphomia Potter followed her husband after she failed to be revived at St. Mungos Hospital._

It had details about his father's _job_ and Sirius scrunches the newspaper up and throws it hard across the room. Remus winces and Peter swallows. Sirius glares at everyone and turns into Padfoot. He curls up at the foot of my bed, and I close my eyes and bury my hand into his fur.

We move on.

I go back to weekly patrols and Sirius goes back to hexing Slytherins from under the invisibility cloak. I tell you about the map, and we spend patrols laughing in my dorm with the map open beside us. Sirius lies on the bed next to us and Marlene giggles from across the room where she's painting her toe nails on Peter's bed.

I go for walks, now, though. To clear my head and one time I'm at the top of the astronomy tower and you walk in. You're holding the map and you're concerned. I've been up here for hours you tell me, I missed the meeting and you're worried.

 _Remember when you hated me, Evans?_ I ask and you look down at the lake.

It's starting to freeze over. It's nearly Christmas and we're both staying at school over the holidays because I don't have a family to go home to and you don't want to endanger your mother.

 _Yes,_ you answer because you're always honest, _you were an arsehole._

 _Evans?_ I ask you and you look at me. We're close and we're leaning over the edge to look at the view and I can feel your breath on my cheek.

 _Potter,_ you counter and you call me _James_ now and I call you anything but _Lily_ but I like it.

 _There's a war on,_ I tell you and you nod. _My parents are gone,_ and you nod again, _and we're probably not going to survive for long out of Hogwarts._

I'm drowning in your eyes and I'm gasping for breath and still you don't say anything.

 _I know I said I wouldn't ask again, but-_

And then there's your lips on mine and you're kissing me. Fpr the first time and suddenly it's like there's air rushing into my lungs but it's like its leaving and I'm sinking. It's like I'm blind and you're sight and it's like you're my whole world.

 _You're beautiful_ I tell you and you laugh _I've wanted to tell you that for three years and now I can._

You swallow, _James,_ you say and your hand is in my hair and mine is on your waist and it's ridiculous really because we've been here for less than three minutes but I feel like there's a chance we're going to be okay.

 _If you don't feel the same,_ I say, _it's okay because_ _Sirius dared me to say this._

You blink and a smile quirks your lips up, _that's okay because Marlene dared me to say it back._

And we don't say it (we do, later. You tell me again and again and I want to tell you until my voice starts to go).

It's stupid but I buy you flowers because you think they're overrated and you say that you only thought they were overrated because no one had ever gotten them for you before. We go to London Zoo, sneak out of school on Christmas Eve and apparate to the Zoo, and you watch the tigers for hours.

You hold my hand and throw snow in my hair and I trip you up and you push me over and I carry you to a restaurant. We share a pizza and you get an ice cream even though it's snowing outside and I laugh at you.

You dye my hair pink because I cast a trip jinx at you so I can use stupid pick up lines on you ( _I think you just fell for me)_ and McGonagall moves Remus in between us because I keep writing you notes with _roses are red, violets are blue, your Lilies are ginger_ on them and you write back with _that doesn't even rhyme, James._

It's stupid but you show up to every quidditch match with red and gold scarves and my old quidditch jumper on and you embarrass your friends because you're screaming so loud but you don't care.

You still sneak to the kitchens with Sirius, and I find you and Remus in his bed playing exploding snap at three o'clock in the morning more than once and you know all of Peter's favourite sweets. Peter puts his radio on in the common room on New Years Day and you dance with Mary round and _round_ the room, legs kicking into the air and she falls over she's laughing so hard.

Dorcas gets you drunk and you nearly fall into the fire and it's like we're best friends but I get to kiss you.

I kiss you at the new year and you laugh against my lips. I enter the new year with no parents, a brother and a girl with red hair and green eyes and you enter with no father, a sister who doesn't speak to you and a mother who you can't see for fear of endangering her. I kiss you and kiss you and Sirius kisses Marlene and she slaps him before kissing him again. You laugh and I spin you round and we fall to the ground and we're too drunk for it to hurt.

We win the quidditch cup and you run onto the pitch and jump into my arms and the whole school is watching and I remember when they used to watch you scream at me. Sirius claps me on my back and Remus jumps on his and they both fall over and it's ridiculous and in another world, perhaps I would have accepted the offer the scouts from the quidditch leagues make but in this world, I'm a soldier.

 _We're not going to win,_ you tell me one night. There's stars swirling above us and they seem so close but they're so far away.

I don't know what to say other than _I know_ so that's all I do say.

(Your mum is 'in a car crash' in June. Snape comes up to you and tells you he's sorry before you've even told me and you _rip_ into him. You call him a deatheater and you're screaming and crying and telling him that nobody knew but you and I figure it out like you do. You close your eyes and tell him you thought he was better than this and he looks at me and says _I thought you were too._ You hex him and he can't walk for a week)

You're quiet like I was but we fall together easier, now. We need each other and we sit by the fire and Mary plaits your hair and I remember learning to do it on your hair. Remus offers us all chocolate and we play cards by the fire as the winter turns to spring and the spring turns to summer.

I learn that you don't dive, you bomb into water. You prefer tea to coffee and you think that Remus would be a better boyfriend than me (you're joking and it's the first time I hear you laugh in a month). Marlene holds your hand every time she reads the newspaper and Sirius scans the name for the death eaters caught as much as he scans the names of those that are dead.

He's looking to find Regulus and he doesn't.

Sirius and I get detention for a week because we get into a fight with a group of Slytherins who are calling every other person they see a _mudblood._ Instead of getting a months worth, we get an offer to join the _order of the phoenix._ We all join and I go to the first meeting with you by my side.

I show you I'm a stag and you show me your patronus and you whisper _Prongs,_ and then figure out the others. You ask what the animals mean, and Remus tells you I'm the leader, Sirius is loyal and he falters when he gets to Peter, and says that we haven't figured Peter's out yet.

There's a blue sky and green grass and trees that sway in the wind. There's a castle that serves as a school, with battlements and turrets and towers. There are students on the grass, a girl with ginger hair, a boy with dark hair by her side and they're holding hands.

We leave school on a Tuesday. I plaster myself to your back and say _move in with me._ You laugh and nod and we do.

We're a mess with a small, shabby flat in East London. Sirius and Remus somehow manage to bag themselves the flat above us and the building is so completely shitty that it's a wonder we stay alive. We fix it up, though, and it becomes our _project_ before you start your internship in a potions place and I start learning how to become an auror.

There's wooden floors and a bathroom with a working tap and a _colour scheme_ in the bloody _kitchen_ but its worlds better than Sirius and Remus'. We hang our scarves by the front door, and there's so many photographs in the hall. You cook like shit and most nights we end up on the sofa with a pizza between us.

You're a late riser and you're grumpy when your alarm goes off. We paint the bedroom by hand- the _muggle_ way (you're adamant that we do something the muggle way) – and I draw a line of peach down your chin. You stripe a multitude of colours in my hair and I tell you I hate you and you laugh and tell me you'd rather live with the giant squid.

I kiss you.

(we're eighteen years old and we're starting a life together and we've only been together for nine months but we've known each other for seven years. We fight about stupid things and you cry at stupid stuff and I take you to your first quidditch match but we have to leave early because there's a war on)

Mary makes you cookies and starts her healer training in September. You floo to work together because you work on the floor below hers. Dorcas comes to training with me and Sirius and Peter works with his mum in the shop. Remus spends most of his time undercover for the order, but he's at our flat for every full moon with a look of terror in his eyes.

Sirius has lines around his eyes from worry where they used to be laughter and you get attacked on the way home from work. You're three hours late home and you're a mess.

There's blood on your head and you have concussion. Your hands are shaking from the amount of hexes you've taken. You open your eyes for the first time in three hours and say _you should see the other guy._

I mean to say _I hate you,_ but I say _marry me, Evans_

You mean to say _my head hurts_ but you say _alright, Potter._

Sirius shakes his head and demands I propose properly, in front of everyone, when your head is better. I do, and it's ridiculous and he cries.

We get married in the summer and we're nineteen years old and saying _I do._

(We upstage Petunia's wedding in every way possible. There's roses on every table (and lilies because I demanded) and we use them as place names. Remus walks you down the aisle and you have three maids of honour just like I have three best men. Dumbledore tells everyone he knew we were going to get together and the world stands still for a day. No one dies and there isn't a war on and the ministry doesn't get involved and Mad Eye tells jokes instead of saying _constant vigilance_ and you.

You're wearing white and it's _stunning._ Mary did your hair and it's twisted and elegant and there's flowers and diamonds in it and if I'm better looking than Vernon, then you're an angel. You dance with Dumbledore and I dance with McGonagall and Sirius dips you round and round and you're laughing so hard you can't breath.

You smash cake in my face and I feed you a bit delicately (Dorcas glares at me every time I kiss you because it takes some of your makeup off) and we dance. Petunia comes and she offers you a stiff congratulations but she leaves before the reception.

I give a soppy vow, and you promise to make me burnt toast every time I want it and I love you, I love you, I love you).

We're nineteen years old and we're married and I love you.

It's ridiculous.

But I get this _feeling_ when I look at you that tells me that everything is going to be okay. And I trust it and I trust you and we're going to be okay.

(we're really, really not going to be okay and I don't care because we're together)

The sun is shining and we have the same surname and that's the only thing that changes. You dance in front of the mirror and sing into your toothbrush. Sometimes I blink and we're in third year and you're looking at me with disgust and then I'm twenty and you're pretending to do a strip tease for Marlene and I don't understand what happened but I'm glad it did.

You're nineteen and I come home from work. Sirius has been off all day, keeps telling me I need to talk to you and I don't know if it's bad or good because he doesn't know either. It's just past Christmas, the third of January, and its cold and I just want to be inside but when we get there Sirius looks at me and says _don't freak, she's worked up enough as it is._

You try to pretend like everything is fine and I _know_ it's not.

I ask you what's wrong and you lie and tell me you're fine and you're stupid if you think I'm going to be believe you. You spill in the end, and there's a baby inside of you and it's mine and _we made a human between us, Evans._

You cup your stomach and tell me that we can't keep it, _are you out of your mind, James?_ There's a war on and we're all going to fucking _die._ I can't fault your reasons. They're perfectly logical. We shouldn't. It's dangerous and there's a chance that it'll lose a father or a mother or both, and I agree with you on this, but then. But then, what if?

What if this baby is the one thing everyone needs? What if I can pick them up from school when their four and they hug me and call me _daddy_ and we can paint their room with weird themes and they can try your lipstick on? What if there's eyes that open and they're green and there's tiny fingers that clutch yours and what if there's an opportunity for us to bring another life into a world where so much life is being lost?

 _The Longbottoms are having a kid_ , you say, like this is a game changer and I know I've got you. I know I never really had a chance of not having you. _It'll need a friend._

 _if we have a girl and they have a boy, they can get married._ I promise you and you clutch my neck.

Marlene dies three days later. She was with Sirius and he apparates into the kitchen. I comes home to my wife and my best friend crying together on the sofa. There won't be a funeral because there hasn't been a funeral for anyone else. You go into the hall and lean against the wall and stare at the photos on the opposite wall.

Everything is _shit_ and your stomach is gradually getting bigger, and it's March and you're twenty years old and we're ambushed on the way home from the supermarket. You apparate (thank you, thank you, thank you) immediately, and spend an hour waiting for me to come.

We're having a boy. Mary and Dorcas throw you a baby shower and it's pathetic. It's you three, Alice Longbottom and Molly Weasley. (I hide with Remus and Sirius and Peter upstairs in their flat and we laugh at how stupid the idea of a _baby shower_ is. Sirius thinks it's an actual shower of babies because he's a knob.)

I surprise you as a late birthday present with a house in Godric's Hollow. It was my parent's second home and it'd been rented out for years. We move in two months before the baby is due and I don't let you unpack anything (I sit next to you and hold your hand as the boxes unpack with a wave of my wand).

The house is perfect and it becomes your project just like the flat did. You change the bedroom from blue to pale cream and the tiles in the bathroom are suddenly all rustic-looking and there's no carpet but wooden panelling. There's an oak table and the second bedroom has a quidditch theme.

Your cat (I refuse to acknowledge him as mine; he's ginger and I've already got too much ginger in my life) makes himself at home within seconds.

Harry is born and I'm a father. He's tiny and small and it's weird because even though he's puny and ugly, he looks like me. I've known him for fifteen minutes and I would die for him.

He's you and he's me, and he's _us._

(you're sweaty and disgusting, but you didn't even smile this wide at our wedding, even though with every other breath you wince. I know I promised you when you screaming at me for getting you pregnant that we wouldn't have anymore, but Lily, _look at him)_

You force Moony to hold him, and he looks terrified for the first two minutes but then he's smiling and cooing at the baby. The world stands still because of _our son,_ Lily.

 _Harry_ I say, and you push some hair out of his face and nod.

 _Harry James Potter._

And the world went back to normal.

I got up every other night at two am to calm him down when he was screaming, and you complained because your boobs hurt from so much breast feeding (You hit me when I offered to massage them). We're tired all the time, and on the nights the boys stay over, no one sleeps.

It gets easier when he's six months old, but it gets harder.

There's a prophecy. And it's either about Harry, or about Neville, the Longbottom kid (him and Harry have met a couple of times, as well as the Weasley's newest ginger kid, Ron. Harry didn't seem to impressed by any of them, really). I come home to find you crying in the closet because it's the only place where it doesn't feel real.

We're fighting in a war that could possibly be stopped by our son, and it's ridiculous.

I want to run away, and you want to too, but we can't. There's Remus and Sirius and Peter and Mary and Dorcas and Marlene and Dumbledore and there's so many _people_ here, dead or alive that we need to fight for. So we stay.

You hold my hand tighter, and you hold Harry closer to you.

I blow bubbles out of the end of my wand, and Sirius gets him a broomstick for his first birthday. Remus gets him a quidditch sweater with _Potter_ on the back, a huge number one emblazoned underneath it. There's a picture, somewhere (you send it to Sirius, I think) or me chasing Harry on his broom and you trying to keep the cat out of harm's way.

I kiss you, and you rest your head on my shoulder and Peter brings round too many soft toys for not being able to make it to Harry's birthday.

We're twenty one years old, and it looks like we're losing the war, but it's okay.

It's okay because you leave your socks lying around and I never make the bed. We'll be okay, Remus tells me one evening, because our house is such a mess Voldemort take one look at it and think it's abandoned.

(Remus is staying with us because there's a spy in the Order, and, as the only werewolf, people think it's him)

Dumbledore demands we have a secret keeper, and we both turn towards Sirius. He gets attacked, ambushed, whatever you want to call it every night for a week, and you tell me it's too much. We need to pick someone who isn't as obvious and Peter raises the suggestion of himself.

We don't tell anyone, not even Dumbledore, and it's a secret between us four. Peter's so rarely here anymore that it'd be a wonder if anyone even thought of him at all.

You still burn biscuits and I still scream at the prophet when my Quidditch team loses. We still laugh into each other's mouths and do stupid things like forget where Harry is, or let the cat in the room with him (he likes to pull her tail), or don't do the laundry for a week.

We're still idiots and _young_ and we're still living there just happens to be a war raging on outside.

I come home with scars and cuts all down my back one night, and you glare at them. You know exactly who did them, you tell me. You know the cure, tell me the spell is called _sectumsempra_ and it's disgusting. You make me promise to never use it on anyone unless absolutely necessary.

You're quiet for the rest of the evening, bouncing Harry on your lap.

We're twenty one and summer fades into Autumn and then you're getting excited about Halloween, even though it's a _stupid_ holiday. You love it, loved it at Hogwarts, and love it now, as a fully functioning adult with a baby to look after. You carve faces into Pumpkins and dump them at Sirius' flat (Remus hates them and lets you know and you tell him _exactly_ where he can shove it in language that isn't age appropriate for the young boy crawling around the floor).

It's three weeks to Halloween and Harry speaks for the first time. He says _snitch_ and you scowl at me for days. You wanted his first word to be something cute or loving or some sappy shit. You wanted him to say _Mummy_ or _Daddy_ (I think you would have been more annoyed if he said daddy to be honest), but you coo the appropriate amount.

I watch you with our kid, Evans, and every goddamn time I think that if someone were to kill me now, I would die happy. I would die with a smile on my face because you're so bloody perfect and I finally got it right.

There's a moment when I think we're going to make it. Harry's making bubbles burst out of some toy wand you got him so he'd stop playing with mine and you're laughing, nose scrunched up and eyes closed.

I think of ten years down the line when we first take Harry to Hogwarts and you'll clutch my hand because you don't want him growing up (maybe we'll have a daughter who I'll carry on my back even though she's seven but I don't want to let her down). I think of twelve years down the line when he first introduces us to friends that he made for himself and we make fun of him, and they like us and we're the _cool_ parents.

I think of fourteen years down the line when Sirius buys Harry his first drink and I'll scream at him because he's only fifteen, but you'll fix me with a look and ask when I first started drinking and I'll fall silent. Fifteen years down the line he brings a girl home and Remus'll be sat in the corner with eyebrows raised and talking about the time when Harry was five and a half and he went through a phase of pulling his pants down.

I think of three years down the line when I'll pick him up from school and he'll jump into my arms and ask _why_ to everything and cling to my neck. We'll meet his teachers and I'll say _he has his mother's brains_ when they say how clever he is, and you'll say, eyebrow raised and casting a disdainful glance at me, _but his father's attitude towards learning._

You'll roll your eyes and I'll kiss you and Harry'll make a disgusted face.

Two years down the line and we'll tell him he's going to be a big brother and he hates the idea at first but then loves it when he realises he'll have someone else to torture besides the cat. As long as he doesn't have to share his Uncle Sirius, he'll be fine.

So I'm lying on the floor, Harry sprawled out in front of me, bubbles bursting from my wand to make him laugh. You're trying to clean the house up, folding blankets and stuff but you're distracted by Harry's giggles.

 _It's late,_ you say, and you carry him off to bed.

I throw my wand on the sofa, and collapse back against the floor, arm slung over my face.

There's a noise and I think it's you in the kitchen but it's not. You're upstairs with Harry.

 _Lily take Harry and go._

It's green like your eyes, Lily, but it's not.

Your eyes are green and gold.

They're grass on a summers day and the sun reflecting off of the Black Lake. They're getting drunk at two o'clock in the morning and leaves tangled in hair and skinny dipping in very public places.

 _It's him!_

They're sparkling with life and laughter, and filled with tears. They're in Harry's eyes, surrounded by pudgy skin that show he hasn't quite grown into himself yet.

 _Go!_

They're warm and happy and they smile when you smile and I hated the colour green until I met you.

 _Run!_

They wink at me and they tell me how you're feeling. They close and they open and they see so much love and life it's a wonder they're not exhausted from it all.

 _I'll hold him off!_

So, no. The green that bursts out of his wand isn't the same as the colour in your eyes. It's cold and it hurts in a way that your eyes never have.

The last thing I see before my eyes slip shut, though, is you.

You're sitting on the grass with your friends. You've got flowers in your hair and you're smiling. You're leaning against a tree, eyes shut. The sun is out and the grass is green, and I'm sitting far away. I blink and you're leaning against my legs by the fire and I'm plaiting your hair. You tilt your head up to look at me and it's green green _green._ My head hits the floor and it bounces and you're kissing me back and saying _Marlene dared me to say it back._ We're lying side by side in bed and you're laughing so hard because I said something. You're bursting into our dormitory and telling Remus he's a whiny bitch, and you're on Sirius' back and he's running round the common room. You're laughing, you're laughing and you're holding our son in your arms and he's fifteen minutes old.

You look at me, and your eyes are green and I _love you._

There's another flash of green, and then there's nothing but I'm still thinking of you.

There's a dark sky and green grass and trees that sway in the wind. There's a castle that serves as a school, with battlements and turrets and towers. There are two parents lying on the floor and a broken man standing out the front, long hair pulled back off of his face. There's a baby crying and a werewolf who has to face full moons alone.

We left behind a world that was saved, but we left behind a generation of broken twenty year olds.

We're eleven years old and standing in a mass of students waiting to be sorted. Your elbow bumps mine and you smile.

 _I'm James Potter._

Your smile widens and your eyes are green and your hair is red, and _Hi, I'm Lily Evans._

(and the world ends)


End file.
